Even after Aiden Lee left for the backstage to prepare for his stage, the grade evaluations continued.
Trainees who once again failed to meet the mentors' expectations and received low grades went down to the backstage, and then another trainee stepped onto the stage.
"Oh, that person…."
"That's…."
The moment he came up, a buzz ran through the hall. No wonder—he was already a well-known figure.
"Hello. I'm Kang Hyun-jin, a third-year trainee from DreamActors."
Kang Hyun-jin had visuals that felt closer to an actor than an idol.
A tall, solid build; clear, well-defined features; the classic, bold lines of a textbook handsome face.
His exceptional looks contributed to everyone's surprise, but the whispers from both trainees and mentors alike were because he was the eldest son of one of Korea's top actor couples.
"Good to see a familiar face, Trainee Kang Hyun-jin."
"He's half Mom, half Dad."
Beloved for years as powerhouse actors, Kang Hyun-jin's parents had held the top spot since their twenties.
They married a bit early for actors, had three children—two sons and a daughter—and were still admired as a devoted couple.
Naturally, their children were famous too, and among them, Kang Hyun-jin, as the eldest, was a sort of semi-celebrity who had appeared on numerous programs since childhood.
"Wow, feels like just yesterday I was sending Hyun-jin to kindergarten."
On top of that, Do Min—the mentor who'd once been main vocal of a long-running idol group—had shot a parenting variety show with him in the past.
"Trainee Kang Hyun-jin, didn't you appear on another A-Net survival show three years ago?"
"…Yes."
This wasn't his first survival variety either. Three years ago, he'd already shown his face once on a survival program that selected a winner from among ordinary people.
Back then he'd displayed top-tier dance skills, but ultimately fell short just before the TOP 10 because his vocals lagged behind.
What happened to him after that was reported in the news.
'He suddenly ended up joining DreamActors, and everyone said he'd just follow his parents into acting.'
People were puzzled that he'd signed on as DreamActors' first idol trainee when the agency had never produced a singer before.
But honestly, it seemed stranger that the son of that star couple was suddenly dancing, so everyone more or less accepted it and moved on.
There'd been no news for the next three years, and contrary to assumptions that he was preparing to switch to acting, it seemed he'd steadily remained an idol trainee at his agency.
"Shall we see what you can do?"
At Do Min's words, Kang Hyun-jin took his stance with practiced ease. From his already-set posture, dancer-mentor Rio nodded along, pleased.
The intro began, and Kang Hyun-jin unveiled the performance he'd prepared.
"…Oh."
"…He's really good."
Contrary to the trainees who were looking down on him a bit, Kang Hyun-jin showed astonishing skill—proof of three unseen years of practice.
'…His body is really light.'
I watched him move and thought. They'd said he'd reached the cusp of the TOP 10 on dance skill alone back then; this was dancing worthy of that.
He made good use of his long limbs, hit points and angles cleanly, and above all his lines were fluid and light—there was no heaviness at all. Each individual move was clearly high difficulty, yet watching him, it looked effortless.
'That's talent.'
His sense of rhythm, expression, and movement belonged to the realm of talent beyond practice.
His singing wasn't bad, either. I remembered him being painfully awkward before—missing pitch and not seeming to know how to sing at all—but it looked like he'd worked hard on fundamentals for three years.
Choosing a lower-key song to avoid risk was a smart call, and for a live, he held up well.
Considering the reactions of the trainees and mentors, and the degree of fame he already had, it was easy to predict the grade he'd get.
"For DreamActors' Trainee Kang Hyun-jin… an A."
"Thank you."
"Congrats!"
And just like that, Kang Hyun-jin smoothly became the second A-grade trainee after Do Ji-hyuk.
"Whew…"
I slumped back a little in my chair, stretched my stiff neck, and stared blankly at the stage. Filming that had started during the day was continuing into the night. With plenty of trainees still waiting to perform, it would probably end near dawn.
While I was sighing heavily amid equally exhausted trainees—
"Hello!"
The next set of trainees for the stage came up. Three trainees in white tees and jeans.
Centered around Aiden Lee—the one who'd declared his name to me earlier—the NaineHit trainees bowed deeply and greeted the room with vigor.
"Please take care of us!"
"Good energy. Shall we see your stage?"
At dance mentor Rio's words, they quickly formed up and struck their poses. As the intro started, the three trainees showed off their individual flair and—just as I expected—performed a refreshing, "clean" concept track.
Their song was the debut track of a senior boy group from NaineHit. Both their vocals and dance felt solid with no weak links, earning good marks from the mentors.
"The overall balance is nice. I like the direction of the rearrangement, too."
"Each of you sings and dances well. Your expressions are good—looks like you practiced a lot."
And amid the praise, the one who drew the most attention was—
"Trainee Aiden Lee is… what? You've only been a trainee for six months?"
"Seriously? That's not six-month skill."
Aiden Lee.
'…So he didn't get a free ride to debut after all.'
Watching the stage, I finally felt sure Aiden Lee had been a member of the group "I.Din," who debuted through
'Main vocal… was it?'
If I remember right, he was the member who drew attention for a husky, distinctive voice, steady vocals, strong, actor-like features, and that "genius" character.
Seems that "genius" image didn't come from nowhere—Aiden Lee's skill was outstanding. Among the three NaineHit trainees on stage, he had by far the shortest trainee period, yet he easily overwhelmed the other two.
"Was it Aiden Lee who did the rearrangement?"
"Yes."
Above all, he was that rare producer-type trainee.
The senior group's debut track had originally been a cute concept, but within the bounds of preserving the melodic line, Aiden boldly rearranged it and successfully shifted the mood to a refreshing concept.
Turning a song that far while still leaving its foundation intact is no easy feat, so everyone on site—me included—could tell Aiden Lee had unusual musical talent.
"Impressive. Instruments: violin, cello, piano… Your mother is the cellist Emily Diane, and your father the pianist Seung-gwon Lee?"
"Yes."
And then there was the background. "All-in," you might say.
Born to a mother of Korean–British mixed heritage and a Korean-British father, he was a quarter; and both parents were respected musicians in their fields.
Aiden Lee had also won multiple prizes in international piano competitions as a child. In other words, he himself had walked an elite musical path his whole life.
"Why would someone like that become an idol?"
"He could've just done classical."
"It's not like he couldn't hack it—apparently he was amazing? I've heard of that competition. I thought a prize there basically guarantees your future."
Because the character was so out of the ordinary, once his background came out, the room filled with voices that started as pure curiosity and shaded into wariness and envy.
I figured the show would unpack why Aiden Lee joined the broadcast—or why he was training in Korea—through separately filmed interviews. That sort of backstory is for viewers, not for us trainees.
The mentors, faces lit with interest, offered thanks for the performance, then huddled briefly to decide the NaineHit trainees' grades.
"A-grade goes to… Trainee Aiden Lee."
"Thank you!"
As expected, Aiden became the third A, following Do Ji-hyuk and Kang Hyun-jin.
The other two received B's. They looked a bit disappointed, but B isn't bad; they didn't seem too upset.
Watching the NaineHit trainees bow deeply and jog backstage, I thought about why I hadn't recognized Aiden Lee right away.
'…Didn't he bail in year two? That guy.'
And then I remembered that Aiden Lee had been I.Din's first defector.
I think there'd been a contract dispute with the agency… I don't remember the specifics. I was only in my second year then, still promoting, and around that time I was doing my best not to hear anything related to Kim Min-gi.
My group, Lightning, was slipping while I.Din kept climbing, and it crushed me, so it's no wonder I didn't keep up with news about their members.
Anyway, what I do remember for sure is that I.Din's next comeback track leaned on the rappers. Probably a way to patch the hole left by main vocal Aiden Lee.
'When you think of it that way, I.Din was blowing up at the seams, too—just in a different sense than we were.'
They hadn't caused social scandals or anything, but like Lightning, those members each had their own ideas and acted on them.
As far as I know, fans didn't hold much against them.
Fans who had kept each other in check—sniping, spreading rumors—didn't easily band together. I.Din's fandom was built of individual fans, and that didn't change even up to the official disbandment.
The most common line floating around the fandom was, "Let's just finish the contract and each go our own way." That says it all.
'Not that it's any of my business.'
I tried not to look bored as I watched the next trainees take the stage.
If it wasn't the group I'd be debuting in, it didn't matter to me how their members blew up.
More important than whether future I.Din would disband like before was—
'…When does this shoot end?'
My stamina had long since been completely worn out.